Sherlolly In Amsterdam Warning: fluff!
by sherlolly-shipper221B
Summary: Molly helps Sherlock dismantle Moriarty's network in AMSTERDAM! There shall be fluff and kidnap and it will just be adorable and thrilling all around. (On hiatus)
1. 1: Arriving In Amsterdam

**Hi. I own nought but a small sock. This is my first fan fic on the site. Not 100% sure how to do everything. Please excuse all mistakes. Please review. This is set after TRF (I'm just gonna pretend S3 never happened in this story). Sherlolly. There will be kidnap and much fluff later on, I promise. **

* * *

Molly focused on her breathing. In. Out. She fought to keep looking straight ahead. Do not look right. Do not look right. She peeked. Damn.

This was all so bizarre. A week ago she'd been plodding through her usual routine and then BAM. She was helping the man she was deeply in love with fake his own death. Now she was on a plane with him flying to… Actually where were they going to? That was really something she should have asked him _before _she got on the plane. She made a mental note to ask him when he awoke. It had all been such an adrenaline rush that she hadn't ever really questioned it.

When he'd asked her for her help dismantling Moriarty's network Molly hadn't needed to think. No brainer. Yes. Yes, of course.

She was going to help him with the medical sign of things. The bodies. Figuring out how people had died. That was what he'd said. It'll be a lot different than working in a Morgue but the same job had to be done. But Molly wondered if secretly he hadn't wanted to do it alone. Anyway, they'd look less conspicuous together rather than a recently deceased man travelling on his own.

She peeked to her right again. She'd never seen him sleep before. He looked so vulnerable. So beautiful. No, no. If she was going to do this she had to keep thoughts like that from her mind.

Then the plane shuddered, as if it could see what terrible things would be inflicted on the pair in the months to come, and it landed on foreign soil.

Sherlock jolted awake and wordlessly stood up and began to take down their luggage from the overhead locker.

"Um… Sherlock… You never actually mentioned where we're going." Molly said, stretching and stumbling out of her seat.

"Amsterdam" And with that he swept out of the plane with Molly hurrying after, his silence unnerving her.

* * *

Molly could feel the excitement bubbling up. Amsterdam. It was one of those places she'd always wanted to go to.

"I suppose you want more information" Sherlocks deep voice interrupted her thoug hts.

"Well… Yes"

"The majority of Moriarty's network is in or close to Amsterdam. It is the city of freedom and in freedom most people find sin."

"Hang on.. Is that a Fault In Our Stars quote?"

"Maybe. I used the book to prove that a man murdered his cancer stricken daughter."

"No you didn't. Don't lie Sherlock, how on earth could you have used a novel for that? Did you cry at the end?"

A pause.

"A little." He hurried on " Anyway, as I was saying, we may have to stay here for some time. We'll pose as a newlywed couple. I shall do most of the work, you won't need to deal with the criminal network, but I shall still need your help."

"Of course."

"What?"

"Of course you need me."

She grinned up at him. She had been doing some growing recently (figuratively, she was still rather petite). Mousy Molly was gone. She had more confidence.


	2. 2: Living For Fridays

**Hello, me again :) I own nothing except for a small leaf. This chapter has a little fluff but THERE WILL BE LOTS MORE NEXT CHAPTER I SWEAR! Thank you to the person who left that very nice review and I see that 7 people are following the story. HELLO 7 PEOPLE! I have school tomorrow so I'm not sure if I'll be able to post but I'll post ASAP because I hate waiting for new chapters. Please leave a review if you liked it. I'm very grateful that you are reading all the way to the next chapter! Sorry, I'll shut up now :) xxx**

* * *

They rented a rather nice hotel suite (Sherlock liked his little luxuries) but to maintain the couple façade they only had one double bed. Molly found it very awkward. Every three days or so she would feel Sherlock climb into bed next to her a few hours after she'd gone to bed. Her face would be buried into the pillow so that he didn't see her blushing furiously. After an hour or so of being acutely aware of the consulting detective in the bed next to her she'd eventually drift off. By the time she awoken he'd gone.

But he was the one who woke up to them curled up next to each other. Night after night, no matter how far apart they drifted off they always woke together. One time they had been entwined and he had a hard time untangling himself without waking her. He secretly blamed her for how close they got in the night. But that didn't stop him from enjoying waking up to her warmth and softness and continuing to sleep in the bed when there was a perfectly comfortable sofa in the next room.

Molly spent the majority of her spare time working on a paper. She didn't want to fall behind with no regular work to be doing and the research was fascinating. She was mostly stuck inside, so as not to be seen by Moriarty's men. Sherlock did not need her nearly as much as anticipated. Occasionally he would rush into the hotel suite, grab her hand and run with her to a body lying in a deserted warehouse or in a canal and once in a ice cream factory! She would carry out a quick examination of the body though she often wondered if Sherlock needed her professional input. All she said just seemed to prove him right.

Molly found the running (time was of the essence) very thrilling. Very Doctor Who. Her legs were a lot littler than Sherlocks and she was not as physically fit so often Sherlock would take her hand to help her keep up. It turned Molly's stomach into a heap of quivering butterflies which was a sure fire recipe for a stitch. Owch.

After she'd finished whatever he needed her to do (which was often difficult due to the lack of equipment) he would escort her back (for her own safety, or at least that was what he said. Safety from what?).

And with this they fell into an odd little routine. Occasionally sleeping in the same bed, occasionally running through the old streets of Amsterdam but mostly just doing their own thing.

But then Friday would come around.

* * *

Every Friday Sherlock insisted that he had to wait for someone to do such and such and that he was free for the whole day. Molly would get changed out of her boring round the house clothes and put on a sundress or a floaty blouse and they'd go 'maintain the fiction' as Sherlock called it. Or to put it another way: have lots of fun. Molly insisted they go to the Anne Frank house in the mornings. Sherlock didn't understand why she kept going back as she cried every time.

After the first few minutes the tears would well and he'd awkwardly try to get her stop. He wasn't sure why but he didn't want Molly to cry. He just wanted her to be happy. He didn't like it when she was hurt.

He'd get a tissue or sort of pat her on the back as he said such helpful phrases as:

"I'm not sure why you're so upset over someone you never knew."

"I don't see you crying over the dead bodies you perform autopsies on."

And once he said "Please stop crying. I don't like it when you cry."

It was awkward little gestures like that that stopped her crying and after they'd finished touring the house they'd go and have lunch in little cafes and Sherlock would excitedly tell her about some of his favourite cases.

Molly just watched how much of a boy he became when he was excited. His eyes lit up. He spoke even quicker (if that was possible). His hands waved waved around a lot. She found it kind of adorable.

In the afternoons they just strolled and discussed whatever the hell they felt like. They walked by the canals and marvelled at the beauty of it all. They tried not to get knocked over by bikes.

Then they would return back to the hotel, Molly would go to bed and a few hours later Sherlock would join her. On Saturday she would wake alone and she knew she'd have a whole week to wait for the next Friday.

Molly lived for Fridays.


End file.
